


Grey As Ash

by kathkin



Series: A Few Notes in the Song of Creation (a Lord of the Rings Dæmon AU) [11]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Daemon Separation, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 04:45:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14887898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathkin/pseuds/kathkin
Summary: Sam’s hand went to his chest, to the place that still ached. He’d thought it would never stop hurting, and it hadn’t, but it no longer burned so. It was the dull, fading ache of a strained muscle or an old wound. Whatever harm he’d done himself was healing. There’d be a scar.





	Grey As Ash

**Author's Note:**

> a) Wikipedia on [dæmons](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/D%C3%A6mon_\(His_Dark_Materials\)).
> 
> b) [Ground rules for this AU](http://penny-anna.tumblr.com/post/174266827343/ground-rules-for-d%C3%A6mon-au).
> 
> c) See end notes for dæmon key!

The ground was grey as ash. The sky was dark, like charcoal, choked with smoke. The air reeked. Sam wished he didn’t have to breathe.

“Sam.”

One word, and Sam shivered. “You ought to be sleeping, Mr Frodo.”

“Can you feel her?”

Sam’s hand went to his chest, to the place that still ached. He’d thought it would never stop hurting, and it hadn’t, but it no longer burned so. It was the dull, fading ache of a strained muscle or an old wound. Whatever harm he’d done himself was healing. There’d be a scar.

He could bear the pain. Harder to bear was the yearning loneliness.

“Yes,” he said. “I can feel her.”

It was something he’d felt all his life, but he’d never noticed it before – before Cirith Ungol. He’d always been able to _feel_ Harebell. He could feel what she felt, and even when he couldn’t see her he could feel where she was and what she was doing.

She was faint and faraway but not gone. He had felt her move further away as they had journeyed deeper into Mordor. She was no longer in the Morgul Vale. She had moved west. 

If he closed his eyes and concentrated, he thought he could hear her voice or even see through her eyes, see the green forests and the flowers and smell the fragrance of Ithilien. Whether he truly could or he was merely wistfully imagining he didn’t know.

Sometimes he felt a distant echo of her fear and he wanted to weep.

Frodo said, “I can’t feel him.”

Sam’s blood went as ice. He didn’t want to breathe. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t think for if he thought he’d start to weep.

“I could,” said Frodo. “At first. But I can’t, now. He went away.”

“Maybe.” Sam swallowed his fear. “Maybe he’s farther away than my Harebell.”

He knew before said it that it couldn’t be so. Wherever they were, Harebell and Gentian would be together. They would not have allowed themselves to be parted for the world.

“Maybe,” said Frodo. He shut his eyes as if to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Dæmons (not) in this fic:
> 
>  **Frodo and Gentian:** [pale tussock moth](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Calliteara_pudibunda#/media/File:Calliteara_pudibunda.jpg).  
>  **Sam and Harebell:** [red cocker spaniel](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Bojars%27s_english_cocker_spaniel.jpg).  
> 


End file.
